


Past

by Reading_with_Winchesters



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Beating, Happy Ending, Harry is a ball of sunshine, Hurt/Comfort, I swear it's better than it sounds, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Draco, Suicidal Thoughts, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 07:58:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reading_with_Winchesters/pseuds/Reading_with_Winchesters
Summary: Draco wants to see his parents one last time. Do his parents want to see him?





	

The day Draco went back to Malfoy Manor was cold and cloudy. There was no rain, but Draco felt the weather fit his situation perfectly: pent up emotions and none of them happy. It had been a year since the war, since he last saw his family as they walked away from the battle that was still going on behind them. He had disapparated separately, ashamed of what he had been forced to do and the side he had been forced to fight for. Suffice to say his family didn’t care too much for him at that moment either.

 

Not that that had stopped them from writing letter after letter asking him for money in order to keep themselves afloat in a world where neither could find a job of any kind. The wizarding world shunned former Death Eaters, and they had hated muggles to the point where they never bothered to learn any skills that could have been useful in the muggle world either.

 

The gate was locked like always, but Draco was still a Malfoy and was able to get in without alerting anybody to his presence. His plan was to approach his father in his study and use the element of surprise to get his words out before Lucius could react. If all went well he would be out of there in mere minutes and then he could go back to Harry and the life they had started to build together.

 

He couldn’t hold back his trembling as he pushed open the door prepared to wince at the inevitable creak. It did not creak, however, because this was Malfoy Manor and even if the family name was disgraced, nothing would be left unoiled or untrimmed. He couldn’t hold back the rush of memories that filled him at the familiar sight of the open room before him:

 

_ “Father, I’m sorry!” He cried as Lucius stepped closer, still wielding the broken wine bottle. When it came to beatings, his father preferred the muggle way. He found it more satisfying most of the time. _

_ “I’ve heard that too many times, Draco.” Was the cold reply as he whipped the bottle across Draco’s chest, shredding the shirt and the skin underneath. Draco’s scream echoed through the house, but no one came to his aid. _

_ “Father, please.” He pleaded as Lucius raised the bottle again. _

_ “No Draco, this family has a reputation to maintain and getting detention with Harry Potter and a bunch of Gryffindor’s is not the way to do that.” _

_ “I’m sorry.” He whispered. _

_ “You should be.” said Lucius, still emotionless. Screams and cries and eventual sobbing were heard for hours, but there was nobody in the world who cared enough to stop them. _

 

Draco shuddered back to reality. He had only been eleven, but that was no excuse. A mistake was a mistake and he had deserved to be punished. His heart still beat too fast, but he made his way through the house steadily. Echos of long ago pain rang out at him from almost every room in the house, but he pushed on through the harsh remembrance: that was behind him now.

 

Of course, that was not the end of his suffering. Why should it be? Karma was never going to be his friend after everything he had done. Lucius’ study door was closed, and as Draco put his hand around the knob, he lost his grip on the present:

 

_ “What have I always told you about my study?” Lucius asked, throwing seventeen year old Draco to ground with a swish of his wand and a muttered curse. _

_ “Father, the Dark Lord is here, he has news.” Draco panted, gasping at the pain in his back and the lack of air in his lungs. _

 

_ “That is no excuse.” Lucius sneered, “You should have knocked and you know it. I make the rules and you follow them. There are no exceptions.” _

 

_ “I’m sorry, father, I will not make that mistake again.” The words had barely left his mouth before his body lit up with pain of being burned alive a thousand times at once; the pain of every war that had ever been fought; the pain of thousands of unnecessary deaths of the innocent. When the pain stopped it took all of his strength not to cry, but he knew what came along with breaking rules. Even if it was unwitting, it deserved punishment so he would remember not to make the same mistake next time. It was a way of teaching, and Draco was used to it at this point. _

 

_ Not used to it, however, to the point where it did not hurt anymore. The next wave of the Cruciatus Curse hit him with the same intensity of the first and he was reminded vividly of the pain of getting the Dark Mark while his father and Bellatrix physically restrained him from even sitting up on the floor. It had been painfully obvious that he had no choice in the matter, and the same was true right now. _

 

_ The pain ended and was replaced immediately by high, cold laughter. _

 

_ “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, my Lord. Let us join you now.” Came his father’s voice from somewhere nearby. Everything was hazy and Draco could not even think straight at this point. _

 

_ Lord Voldemort answered Lucius with a sneering, “No, Lucius. Discipline is of the highest priority around here. Join us when you are finished, we will wait. And don’t bother to bring the boy today, lock him somewhere to reinforce the lesson. Call that my personal touch to the situation.” _

 

_ Draco’s mind went to Potter. How much different would his life be right now if he had correctly identified the man and handed him over? Would he be praised instead of shunned and tortured? What if he had made Potter take him away? What then? But no, his allegiance had been set for him, and there was no redeeming himself at this point. _

 

_ As another burst of green light came toward him, he resigned himself to whatever was going to happen and let his eyes fall shut. _

 

But now he didn’t have to worry about being punished. He was no longer under Lucius’s control. Rules no longer applied, and there was nothing for him to be punished for any more. His father was disgraced and Draco was the one building a new life and a new reputation for the Malfoy name. His father had no power.

 

With that mantra in his head, he turned the knob and stepped into the study.

 

He would say it was exactly like he remembered it, but he had never been allowed in here before. It was, however, exactly how he had pictured it all these years. White walls with no pictures or any decorum. A plush couch and two different, but equally extravagant desks. One for ministry work, and one for Death Eater business. At the moment, Lucius was sitting straight up on the green chair next to the couch. He regarded Draco coolly and the young man could feel his confidence slipping the longer he stood there.

 

“I will never apologize for leaving this family and this lifestyle behind. I am happy now, with Harry Potter, my boyfriend.” Draco smirked here, knowing how much this would piss his father off. “You were on the wrong side of the war and you lost for a reason, I have payed my dues and it is not my place to pay yours too. Not after everything you put me through. So stop writing all those letters because they are nothing more than a nuisance to the both of us.” And with that, he turned to leave.

 

Sadly, he did not even make it to the study door when something sharp hit him between his shoulder blades before falling to the ground and crashing. His back felt warm and sticky and Draco did not even need to turn around to know that it had been a broken wine bottle. He was too familiar with that sensation to forget it anytime soon. He knew he should just keep walking, he wanted to; but he couldn’t. He was glued to the floor by fear, and when he felt hands harshly grab his shoulders he knew there was no point anymore.

 

“After everything your mother and I did for you, this is how you repay us?” Lucius’s voice was deadly quiet and calm. The thumbs digging into the new cuts on his back told the real story of his emotions. He was livid, and there was only one way that this type of situation ever played out.

 

As Draco was whirled around and a solid fist connected with his jaw, he wondered briefly if he should fight back. No, he deserved this. His father had a point: they had raised him and payed for everything and sent him to school for seventeen years. They deserved to be payed back and he was denying them compensation.

 

Evidently, Lucius agreed. A glass goblet was smashed on Draco’s forehead and the newly broken stem was used to stab the young man wherever his father could reach. Nothing was spared by glass nor fist and when Lucius finally stood up, Draco did not bother to even get up. Let him die there. The rest of the world would never accept him - he had the Dark Mark to remind them what he had been in the case that they ever forgot. Harry was playing a joke on him, or at least just dating him out of pity. His life was worthless and he had alienated himself from the two people who had ever cared for him. There was no point anymore.

 

He barely even reacted when the Crucio hit. His muscles spasmed from the pain, and he screamed by reflex, but his mind barely acknowledged what was going on anymore. It would end when it was over. Hopefully when he was dead. There was a scrap of dignity in this death compared to killing himself. At least this way he wouldn’t hurt Harry in the case that his love was real.

 

It was minutes after Lucius had left that Draco realized he was alone. He felt tears sting his eyes at the fact that he was still alive and in severe pain. Nothing had gotten his attention while he had been thinking, but now the aches and stings and just general pain all over his body was hard to ignore. So was the pool of blood that was slowly forming around his body. It reminded him of that time in the bathroom with Harry in sixth year. If he had died then he would have saved a lot of people a lot of pain and trouble. Maybe now he could right that wrong and at least offer people a peace of mind. One less Death Eater in the world, right?

 

Time didn’t even register with Draco, so when his mother knelt down beside him with tears in her eyes, he had no idea how long he had been lying there. Had his father left him for dead? Or had he sent Draco’s mother to get him out because he was too ashamed to see him again? Draco wasn’t sure which option hurt less.

 

He must have blacked out somewhere around that because the next thing Draco remembered was lying in a hospital bed, his mother gone, and Harry Potter in the chair by his bed.

 

Harry had noticed the minute his eyes had started to flutter and now he stood up and grabbed Draco’s hands; his eyes looked glassy and his grip was a touch too tight for him to just be happy his boyfriend was awake.

 

Draco finally met his eyes - he hadn’t wanted to because he knew if he did he would have to come to terms with what he had done at Malfoy Manor; the way he had just given up.

 

“You didn’t even fight back.” Harry whispered, “Why not?”

 

Draco shrugged, wincing as he pulled at all of the tears and stab wounds and stitches covering his back and shoulder blades, “Why would I?”

 

Harry was quiet for a second. Then, “Your mum told me about the beatings. You know you didn’t deserve that, right?”

 

Draco’s silence was answer enough.

 

Harry cleared his throat, “You know, I haven’t told almost anyone this, but,” He paused, working himself up to tell Draco the truth about his childhood, “My aunt and uncle, the ones I lived with, they beat me all the time. Every day. Physically and mentally and they made me do everything around the house. They worked me too hard and didn’t feed me enough. I try to forget about it, but sometimes I can’t. I didn’t deserve it and I’m not weak for letting it scare me to this day. It was traumatic, and we have to acknowledge that.” His switch of pronouns at the end let Draco know that there was a moral to this story. But right now he didn’t need any morals, he just needed Harry.

 

That was the last rational thought he managed before tears overcame him and he could do know more than to let the sobs wrack his body and grip tightly to Harry’s hand. Harry got the message very quickly and lay down beside Draco on the hospital bed, drawing the blond into his arms and just holding him; he was careful not to irritate any of Draco’s numerous wounds because the last thing he wanted was to hurt the poor man even more.

 

Harry wanted to say something, to comfort his boyfriend like he knew he should, but he had never been good with words and the war had not changed that. So he just pet the back of the man’s head as they lay there.

 

Eventually, Draco did manage to calm down enough to tell Harry, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t fight. I’m sorry I let you down. I understand if you want to leave and I’m sorry I did this. I’m sorry.” He was still hysterical, but at least he could speak.

 

Circumstances didn’t make his words any less shocking to Harry, however. “Draco, I’m lying on a hospital bed hugging you. Don’t you think if I wanted to leave I wouldn’t have even come? I love you, you git, and I’m not leaving. Not now, not ever.”

 

“That’s what you say now.”

 

“Yeah, that is what I say now. And I will say it again and again until you believe me. You were an arsehole in school, yes, but things have changed. You’re a new man, Draco. Maybe you have a little more of a deathwish than I would hope for, but hey, who am I to talk?” Draco let out a little snort at that, and Harry felt quite accomplished considering the situation.

 

“I love you and I always will, can you believe that?”

  
Draco was silent for a second before answering quietly, “Yeah, I think I’m ready to start.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing depressing shit. And I always hurt the ones I love the most. I'm sorry if anyone is OOC, I had a hard time writing the hospital scene. Thank you so much for reading! As always, please leave kudos and comments! Love you all!


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